Own your identity in ‘wonderful weird Winchester’

I have found an unex­pect­ed sanc­tu­ary in my move to Winchester. My fam­i­ly is com­posed of the quirky, the crafty, and the fre­quent­ly oth­ered. It has been so reward­ing to find new friends who also buck the norms, float­ing through this thing called life in their own spe­cial way. 

When peo­ple talk of Winchester as a gate­way to Appalachia, there are often stereo­types expressed imply­ing a homog­e­niza­tion of cul­ture, a lack of edu­ca­tion. While I have faced many of these stereo­types as a Kentuckian out of state, the way oth­ers speak of the region east of Lexington has its own spe­cif­ic ire. What I’ve dis­cov­ered in my time here is that not only do those stereo­types not apply to most folks in Winchester, there are so many peo­ple here active­ly ded­i­cat­ed to erad­i­cat­ing the “norm.” 

Winchester is more pro­gres­sive than one may think. It is a town with immi­grants, vet­er­ans, witch­es, yogis, dis­abil­i­ty rights advo­cates, cyclists, artists, grannies, and anar­chists. It is a place for heal­ing and self growth, offer­ing much need­ed med­ical sup­port for many in the sur­round­ing coun­ties. It is a com­mu­ni­ty rein­vent­ing itself and buck­ing the trends that plague so many of the oth­er towns sur­round­ing Lexington. 

Whether it’s a bright pur­ple bar­bie jeep whip­ping down the bypass, two hip­pies in a side by side along the riv­er, or a hay wag­on on Two Mile blast­ing Black Sabbath on their Bluetooth speak­er, each day I find some­thing to love about the peo­ple here. These small moments of human­i­ty add up to so much more than Winchester is giv­en cred­it for, even among some of its more “tra­di­tion­al­ly” mind­ed residents.

I was on the porch at Abettor the oth­er day, sam­pling the fan­tas­tic brews they have on tap, when a woman in a real­ly inter­est­ing dress passed me by. My spouse and I com­pli­ment­ed her out­fit as it had a sort of sci-fi vibe. She jok­ing­ly said, “I wasn’t sure if this was like too weird to wear in Winchester. I actu­al­ly moved away a long time ago. I’m just vis­it­ing my Mom.” 

This took me by sur­prise and I respond­ed “No, I think it’s just weird enough! Winchester has got its own vibe for sure.” 

This lady shared how she felt very oth­ered and iso­lat­ed here in her youth. Those expe­ri­ences were what moti­vat­ed her to move to Portland to seek out oth­er odd­balls. When I told her the Beer Cheese Festival was a blast, Abettor has a Night Market, and there’s a Pride fes­ti­val com­ing up, her jaw dropped: “I would have nev­er thought stuff like that would hap­pen here!” 

It’s hap­pen­ing because local peo­ple are mak­ing it hap­pen. These events hap­pen because locals step up to cre­ate mag­ic and change the per­cep­tion of what this town can do. We are capa­ble of more than we yet know.

I was com­plic­it in believ­ing the grass might be green­er on the oth­er side of the fence. After grad­u­at­ing high school in-state, I moved to the Rockies, then Austin, then the Bay Area, then Minneapolis, hop­ing that I would find myself more eas­i­ly with­in a larg­er social set­ting. In many ways I did. My com­ing out was made eas­i­er by the cama­raderie and com­mu­ni­ty I found out­side of the Commonwealth. 

However, I have always felt the call­ing to return home and bring home those expe­ri­ences to moti­vate me in my con­tri­bu­tions to our cul­ture. Kentucky is the place that made me under­stand what feel­ing home­sick real­ly means. 

Frankly, at this point, I refuse to sur­ren­der the Bluegrass state to misog­y­nis­tic bub­bas, out of touch Baptists, and the Godawful Old Party. It is not Stanley cups or Labubu trends, or Cybertrucks that make us who we are, it’s those whose con­tri­bu­tions are so often over­looked. In the face of addic­tion rock­ing our com­mu­ni­ties, there are moth­ers who stand brave and share their lived expe­ri­ences los­ing fam­i­ly mem­bers. I have met so many peo­ple here who own their truth and claim their space unapolo­get­i­cal­ly.  Even at the Winchester farm­ers mar­ket, we have gay cou­ples pur­su­ing their culi­nary dreams, non­bi­na­ry musi­cians, bisex­u­al crys­tal cura­tors, and les­bian crafters who pre­serve the time hon­ored art­forms of Appalachia. 

So with that, I’d like to raise the chal­lenge to oth­er self-pro­claimed odd­balls: stand your ground. Too often, we sac­ri­fice authen­tic­i­ty, we lose our most inter­est­ing artists, our poten­tial com­mu­ni­ty lead­ers, to large cities instead of chal­leng­ing and defeat­ing those who would seek to silence us. Fundamentally, those who try to shut down what they iden­ti­fy as too weird are suf­fer­ing from a lack of self accep­tance. They lack self love. 

Our most con­tentious neigh­bors are forc­ing them­selves to bend to a false sense of nor­mal­cy, that ulti­mate­ly leaves them feel­ing hol­low, as they too are try­ing to fit into a mold that was nev­er intend­ed to be inclu­sive of our human­i­ty. I chal­lenge myself to dump the shame and guilt that comes with reli­gious trau­ma and cul­tur­al homog­e­niza­tion. I hope oth­ers feel safe enough to unbur­den them­selves as well. We are mul­ti­fac­eted, neb­u­lous, and ever chang­ing. You deserve the space to be your­self and a com­mu­ni­ty that embraces our dif­fer­ences. History is what we make it, and I hope we leave a vibrant, intense, and wel­com­ing legacy.

It is okay to do things dif­fer­ent­ly. It is okay to express your­self in the way that makes you feel your best, so long as you do not intend harm towards oth­ers. We are all expe­ri­enc­ing this phe­nom­e­na of exis­tence simul­ta­ne­ous­ly, fac­ing myr­i­ad chal­lenges each day. Make time to cel­e­brate our dif­fer­ences and give your­self grace in try­ing new things. Encourage oth­ers to embrace their quirks.

To those of you who feel dis­con­nect­ed, oth­ered, exclud­ed, I invite you to join us weirdos. Show off your funky tat­toos, express your love of hor­ror films, eat your veg­an sand­wich­es in the park under the stars. You are not alone and there are more of us than them. 

This October, I’m join­ing oth­ers at the Winchester Pride + Inclusion Festival. A time to gath­er and cel­e­brate the greater spec­trum of our human­i­ty. If you have been seek­ing a sense of com­mu­ni­ty, this is your open invi­ta­tion to join us, to cel­e­brate and dance and feast along­side poten­tial new friends. We owe this sense of com­mu­ni­ty to each oth­er and to ourselves. 

I hope to see you there!